


Once More

by inkandfireby



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Mage Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Mages (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:21:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28855767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandfireby/pseuds/inkandfireby
Summary: Once more unto the Breach, dear friends, once more;Or close the wall up with our dead.In peace there's nothing so becomes a manAs modest stillness and humility:But when the blast of war blows in our ears,Then imitate the action of the tiger;Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;Then lend the eye a terrible aspect.- Henry V, William Shakespeare
Relationships: Blackwall/Josephine Montilyet, Female Lavellan/Solas, Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus
Kudos: 4





	1. Marked

Awake.

Where am I? I am on my knees. Cold air brushes its cold fingers on my skin. My clothes scratch; they are not my own. It's so dark. Where am I? My eyes drop to the floor. Stone tiles are set in circular arrangement beneath me. Lifting my head again, I squint, my eyes focusing and refocusing to try and adjust to the dimly lit room. It's round, dark, and the air is sharp with cold. My nose is warm and tingling, as are the tips of my ears, uncovered by my hair. Where am I? From what I can make out, I am in some sort of dungeon. The revelation startles me. A dungeon? Why am I in a dungeon? Where am I? So many questions run through my mind, but I cannot answer a single one.

I look down again. I'm shackled. Why? I give a short tug on my chain — I'm anchored to the floor. Another quick look around the room tells me I'm alone. A few torches flicker on the walls, cold air blows in from somewhere, but I am alone. My head falls again and I'm looking at my cuffed hands. Something's strange. Is that light, coming from in between my fingers? I open my palm and immediately white hot pain crackles through my hand. It streaks up my arm, and sickly green light floods my vision. I can't help but cry out, screw my eyes shut and clamp my jaw tightly shut. White sparks dance behind my eyelids, and for a moment all I hear is my breath. What was that? Cracking my eyes open again, I take another look. My stomach drops. An unnerving pale green something is glowing brightly in my palm, sparking and searing like some sort of spell. I've studied magic since it surfaced in me. Keeper Istimaethoriel has taught me many things, how to create fire and lightning, how to heal and protect. I recount the years spent poring over ancient tomes whilst my peers learned to hunt outside. And despite all that time I have spent hungrily seeking out knowledge, I have never seen anything like this before.

My eyes have adjusted to the dimness of the room. Straight ahead of me is a door. Where it leads, I can't say. I let a loose sigh escape my lips. Another spark of pain lances up my arm. I hiss, sucking in the frigid air so fast it whistles. An involuntary shiver envelops my body. Without warning the door swings wide open. My heart jumps, and a figure descends into my round cell. A small number of armoured people follow behind the person, their torchlight reflecting off of the their breastplates. There's a curious symbol on them; a sword through a swirling eye. The central figure approaches me and I am able to fully observe who it is. It is a human woman, with short black hair and a deep-looking scar running down her right cheek. She is beautiful, in a savage, hardened sort of way, and she's staring down at me as if I've slaughtered a thousand infants. Have I met her before? She scowls fiercely, circling me like a vulture circles a dying animal. What have I done to make her so angry?

I hear light footsteps, and incline my head to see another woman emerge from seemingly the shadows themselves. She is clad in light chainmail and a purple tunic, furtive eyes staring out from beneath it's hood. She studies me carefully, tilting her head, the tips of her fiery hair brushing her chin. Her expression is softer, not like the furious lour of the other woman. I can't read it.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now." The glowering woman grinds out, lowering her head to be closer to mine. Her accent is strange, unplaceable. What does she mean? What have I done?

"The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead." There is anguish in her voice, the way her pitch fluctuates, the way she bites out her words like they're painful. She stops circling, and stands in front of me. "Except for you."

The news hits me like an avalanche. I remember. The Conclave. The meeting, held by the Divine... to negotiate an end to the Mage rebellion. The rebellion that started in the Free Marches. Where my clan live, and where they are threatened by the violence. Where Keeper Istimaethoriel sent me to spy on the Conclave. And now... everyone is dead? My heart lurches. Was it my fault? No, I figure, no I couldn't have done it.

The warrior woman scowls again, seizing my shackled wrist in a vice-like grip. Her leather glove chafes my bare skin. My palm flops open, the sickly green light pulsing and sparking. I shudder in pain again, but find myself fixated on the brightness in my palm.

"Explain. This."

I wish I could. I open my mouth, but words fail me. "I... can't!"

"What do you mean you can't?" The woman's voice grows in volume, beginning to tremor. Her eyes glitter in the darkness; a warrior's quiet fear.

I didn't do this. I know I didn't. "I don't know what it is, nor how it got there!" I hear myself get louder.

"You're lying!" She hurtles forwards towards, her face contorted, mouth twisted. Her fist closes around my shirt, and it looks for a moment like she will bite my head clean off.

In that moment, the redhead rushes over and pushes her off of me. "We need her, Cassandra!"

Cassandra. Where had I heard that name before? Perhaps at the Conclave? Elgar'nan, the Conclave... I feel sick.

"I can't believe it," I manage to say. My voice comes out quiet, shaky, meek. "All those people... gone? Just like that?"

The redhead approaches me, and I lift my head to look at her. "Do you remember what happened? How this began?" She seems too calm.

What did happen? I don't remember much of anything. I try, but it's all a blur. I flick my tongue against the scar on my lip. Something. Anything. Then, sometching comes. I was sprinting, my breaths frantic and my footfalls harsh and clumsy on uneven ground. I was panicking. My staff was nowhere to be found. All I could see were mists and dark green clouds. There were sounds behind me — growling, scuttling, oozing...

"I remember... running." I start, as I wrack my brain. "Something... somethings were chasing me..."

I wanted to get away. There was a mountain, steep, so steep i clawed with everything I had to reach the top. Then, a figure stood at the summit. Glowing bright and warm, like the sun. Her hand was outstretched to me. Then all was white, and then darkness.

"... and then there was a woman." I finish. I cannot recall any more.

"A woman?" the redhead's eyes widened. She seems like she wants me to say more.

"She reached out to me, and then..." my shoulders droop. What has happened to me?

With that, Cassandra placed her hand on the her shoulder, pulling her away from me. As she does, something catches my eye. The redhead's lilac cloak is fastened with a brooch of some kind. It has the same sword-and-eye symbol as the breastplate of the soldiers. That means this is some kind of organisation. Mythal's Mercy, what have I got myself into?

"Go to the forward camp, Leliana," Cassandra says, ushering the redhead - Leliana - towards the door, "I will take her to the rift."

Leliana nods and leaves the room. I don't understand. What's going on? What am I involved in? What rift? Questions are piling up in my head, squeezed against each other, shouting over one another, crying out I don't know I don't know I don't know-

"What rift?" I say, locking eyes with Cassandra. My voice is stronger this time. "What did happen?"

With a heavy sigh, she approaches me and kneels. She pulls a key from her belt, taking my shackles in her hand. Cassandra looks brow-beaten, tired from anger and confusion. She pushes my hands up and I stand, slowly. Immediately my legs protest, tingles shooting up my thighs as I wobble forward to my feet. Cassandra stands taller than me, even hunched and exhausted as she looks.

"It would be easier to show you."

That definitely doesn't sound good.

Cassandra turns away from me and starts towards the door. I linger for a moment. The shrieking of the questions are still deafening in my head, I don't know I don't know I don't know. I close my altered hand tightly, blowing out my cheeks. Squaring my shoulders, I follow after her. The soldiers that accompanied her open the door again, and a frigid breeze assaults me immediately, wrapping me in its freezing embrace. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, but outside snow falls in fast flurries, settling on the roofs of timber buildings. There are mountains that rise in the distance - I'm still in Haven, then. Then out of the corner of my eye, something green is glowing. I turn my head to see what it is, and the roaring questions hush into pin-drop silence.

Above the mountains, twisting and spitting, glowing sickly and bright, is what I can only describe as a hole in the sky. A hole in the sky. It's bright green, swirling like a vortex, a tendril of terrible energy stretching down and out of sight. Rocks float suspended, some visible and others half-here-and-half-not... I cannot see where the clouds begin and they start. The hole is brightest at its centre, shining faintly and almost... rippling? I look as closely as I can. Can I see colours? Amorphous shapes drifting and swirling, and then a bright green jet of energy shoots from the vortex. And by all the Gods, it is huge. The sight of it chills the blood in my veins.

"We call it the Breach." Cassandra says simply.

"What..." my thoughts are falling over themselves, "it looks like it's..."

"A massive rift into the world of demons."

"The Fade." I breathe. Keeper Istimaethoriel told me of the Fade, of demons and possession... but to have it manifest here? I swallow hard.

Cassandra turns to face me. "It grows with each passing hour. It's not the only such rift, just the largest. And they were all of them started by the explosion at the Conclave."

I shake my head, shouting. "There's no way an explosion can tear the Veil."

"This one did." her face hardens. "Unless we act, the Breach will grow until it swallows the entire world."

A great roaring boom interrupts her, a streak of lurid lightning tearing yet another section of the sky apart. Bright, burning, searing pain erupts through my hand, like one thousand hot irons and daggers stabbing through the skin and bone. A cry roars from inside me as the awful sensation reaches up my arm and stabs into my shoulder. I fall forward into the snow, the pain ending as abruptly as it began.

Cassandra hunkers down in front of me. "Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads, and it is killing you."

"Is it now?" I hiss, trying to recollect my breath. "Fantastic."

"We think it may be the key to stopping this madness, but we don't have much time."

My head droops. Tingling gently surrounds my hand, a teasing reminder of the blinding pain just moments before. There is a hole in the sky - a hole in the fucking sky - and I might be the only key to stopping it? I lift my eyes to the breach once more - the colour is sickly and unnatural, swirling and growing every second. Gods knows how many demons are coming out of there even now. This can not continue. Mythal preserve me, and if not, Falon'din welcome me. I take a steadying breath.

"What must I do?"


	2. The Wrath of Heaven

I stagger forward, Cassandra's hand on my back. Whether it's guiding or forceful, I can't tell. Probably both. My shoes crunch under the freshly fallen snow as we walk through Haven. People are gathered outside, shivering in clothes not meant for this weather. Some have blankets, some don't, but all of them; men, women, children, both civilian and soldier, stare at me with burning glares.

"They have decided your guilt." Cassandra says.

I frown, those words like a poniard to my heart. Am I to be punished? Am I to be blamed for this madness? I'm not sure why, but I bare my teeth. "They think I've done this?"

"They need to believe you did."

"Do you believe I did this?"

"Not intentionally. But these people need it. They mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia. She created this Conclave as a chance for peace between Mages and Templars, once and for all. She gathered their leaders here. Now... she and all the others are dead."

My heart lurched again. Divine Justinia is dead? The Divine Justinia? What could have caused all this? Cassandra's voice falters as we leave the houses behind, trudging slowly up a narrow pathway towards a grand timber gate. Yet more soldiers ahead run to open them for us. Now that she's quiet, I can hear the wind whistling through the valley, jostling the trees, scattering the snow. I can hear the cries of the villagers at Haven, distraught and enraged and confused. I can hear the Breach's bass booming as it spits up yet more demons. It sounds like chaos. It sounds like hell.

"It is easy now, to lash out at anyone, to create a scapegoat" Cassandra continues, "but we must think beyond ourselves, as..." she stops briefly, sighing, " as She did, until the Breach is sealed."

The gate opens out onto a bridge over a deep, dark ravine. Over the other side is another gate, and a path up to my left, towards where the Breach grows in the heavens. Cassandra pauses and turns back to me, taking the same key from before out of a small pouch at her hip. She takes my shackled wrists in her hands and unlocks them, one by one. I can't say I'm ungrateful to feel their right constraints loosen, and I roll my wrists. They crack and release the stiffness inside. Cassandra is looking at me with an unreadable expression as she throws my manacles aside.

"You will be granted a trial. I can promise no more."

I suppose I have to understand that.

Cassandra starts ahead across the bridge, ushering with a gloved hand for me to follow her. "Come. It is not far."

I cast a look down at my hand. The mark is strangely calm now, just a faintly glowing line of light cutting across my palm. That same light swirls from the Breach. I can't believe that the explosion at the Conclave caused this. Of all my magical knowledge, there isn't anything that explains it. Even the sight of it makes every pore of my body scream No. With a sigh, I start jogging to catch up with Cassandra.

Boxes and barricades litter the bridge. Some soldiers are slumped down against the low walls, their legs outstretched and their heads lolling with exhaustion. Or is it hopelessness? Gods, one of them has curled into a ball and is rolling back and forth like a child. He's muttering something - I recognise some of it as the Chant of Light. He lifts his head and stares at me from under his helmet. His expression mirrors Cassandra's - browbeaten, exhausted, terrified, confused. My jaw tightens. Ahead of me, Cassandra calls out to the guards to open the gate.

"We are heading into the valley." she says.

The great gates wrench open and we start ahead up the path. It's an uneven slope uphill, with jutting rock and potholes filled with snow - a line of pine trees face hangs over our heads, and the icy air ruthlessly pounds my back, surging through my thin clothes. My breath condenses in front of my face as I run, my hair being torn from its bun and flying into my face. As I take a breath, my nose tingles - I'm not used to this cold, even in the Marches during wintertime wasn't as bad as this. I take in a sharp breath, quickening my pace as we continue running.

"Where are you taking me?" I shout, dodging an upended cart.

"Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach." Cassandra calls back to me.

I spare another glance down at my hand. Tested? Brilliant - that means demons. There's something burning on the path ahead. The warmth bleeds into my clothes and I'm temped- so tempted- to stop, but I can't. A large rocky overhang looms overhead, icicles hanging over the side seeming primed to fall. Behind it is the Breach, in all its terrible majesty. It booms again, spitting two more jets of green light somewhere into the valley below. The blinding pain comes again, crackling angrily through my hand. My knees buckle and I stagger. I clamp my mouth shut - it hurts. It hurts so much. I clutch my wrist as the searing rushes up my arm in waves, radiating through my very bones. I'm on my knees. Through hot, tear-filled eyes I see my palm glowing again, bright and fierce. Then, just like that, it's gone. Cassandra sprints over to me and kneels down; through my clearing vision I can see her concerned expression as she helps me to my feet again.

"The pulses are coming faster now." she says, giving my shoulder a couple of comforting pats.

My heart is still hammering, but I swallow and nod. This will not be easy. I blow out my cheeks. I'd better get used to this, then, shouldn't I? Fenedhis. I square my shoulders and start running again, my legs weak. We're approaching a second great gate, but this one is unmanned. The soldiers must have abandoned it. Smart wretches. As we approach, I see that the doors have blown off.

"The larger the Breach becomes, the more rifts appear." Cassandra says.

"And the more demons we have to deal with." I finish for her. "How did I survive the initial explosion?"

Cassandra pauses for a moment. "They say you... stepped out of a rift, and fell unconscious."

What?

"They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was."

I knew it wasn't a false memory. A figure, glowing hot as freshly molten steel, arm outstretched to me to save me from the horde of... I suppose they were demons, now. A revelation startles me. I'd taken her hand with my left - the same hand that now bore my mark. Shit. The questions began whispering again. Why can't I remember? Why? 

The second great gate opens out onto another bridge. The river below it has frozen and cracked. It is impossible to tell how deep it is. The Breach explodes once more, but we keep running. A whooshing sounds, and a streak of green light stops me in my tracks. It's too close. There is a cacophonous cracking, splitting and crumbling, and suddenly I'm no longer standing. My ankle twists, and my knee slams into something hard. The world is a blur of green and white and grey as I tumble like a ragdoll, sprawling over debris. Something smacks into my in the ribs and all the air leaves my lungs, and then I'm sprawling across the frozen river. I hack a broken cough, and try to push myself up. I thank the Gods that the river hasn't cracked. I can't say the same for the bridge as I look at it, broken and destroyed. I can't see the soldiers anywhere. Cassandra scrambles up a few feet away from me.

Another boom sounds and I snap my attention to the Breach. A green jet is hurtling towards us, faster than I've ever seen anything go. Cassandra's breath hitches as the jet smashes through the riverbank and lands on the ice, scarcely fifteen feet away. I push myself up, watching as the green-and-black energy begins to ripple. I'm thrown back to my youth, the first time I ever saw a demon, that horrible green birthing it as it was summoned. A body, long and purplish black, rises from the energy, taller than me and taller than Cassandra, snarling from behind a tattered hood. A shade. Cassandra steps in front of me, her blade singing as she tears it from its sheathe. 

"Stay behind me!" she says, and charges.

She roars and rushes towards the shade, slashing at its shrunken, leathery skin. It reels back, shrieking, and swipes at her. Cassandra throws up her shield just in time. My fingers itch for my staff. How am I supposed to defend myself? I'm powerless, defenseless. A gentle green light distracts me from my thoughts. I snap my head to look at it. Fenedhis. Shit. Shit. Green-and-black energy undulates practically at my feet. Another demon. I jump back as the foul thing uncoils and straightens. I have no weapon. What do I do what do I do what do I do- my eyes dart around frantically, searching for something- anything to use. A small stick by the riverbank. A chunk of stone from the broken bridge. What do I do what do I do what do I do- my heart drops into the pit of my stomach. The shade has seen me. It shrieks loudly - a sound that haunted my dreams for weeks as an adolescent, and begins to come towards me. What do I do what do I do what do I do- then I spot it. Lying amongst a broken barrel and a cracked chest, is a staff. Now if I could only get to it.

In a heartbeat, I dash towards the shade. It swings its clawed hand but I duck; for once in my life I'm glad for my Dalish build. My boots slip on the river but I keep going. Skittering to a stop, I grab the staff and spin it in my hand. The wood feels foreign in my grip, but more comforting to me than a mother's embrace. Now I have a chance. I whip around and stare down the monster. It shrieks again and tries to turn itself around, but I'm already aiming. I twist the staff, and a fireball whooshes from it, landing squarely on the shade's torso. Now I'm moving, pouring my magic into every attack, my staff fizzing as fireball after fireball shoots from it. Flame engulfs the demon's body and it begins to flail and shriek. It's weakened, but now I've enraged it. It surges towards me and slashes with its claws. I gasp, throwing up the staff to stop it, but it tears my tunic and I can feel the cuts on the skin beneath open. Pain shouts through my chest and I swing my staff, smacking the creature in the face. It recoils, and I roar, bringing my weapon up high. My magic concentrates... immolate. Fire explodes onto the shade and it squeals, collapsing to the floor in dimming green light.

"It's over." I breathe. I place a hand to my chest and it comes away bleeding. Fenedhis.

Cassandra rushes over, covered in sticky black blood. She's brandishing her weapon, but this time it's at me. "Drop your weapon. Now!"

She cannot be serious. I would be dead now if not for this staff. I'd be defenseless - a liability. "Are you out of your mind?" I don't mean to, but I lash out. "A demon attacked me! Was I supposed to just let it kill me?"

Cassandra sighs and sheathes her sword. "You're right. You cannot afford to be defenseless, not now."

I lower my staff. "Thank you. Let's keep moving."

Cassandra nods, and then we are on our way again, trudging uphill through thick snow. Icicles dangle from rocky overhangs, pine trees sway in the chaotic wind. A section of my bun has completely slipped out, and now battered my face as I run. I spit some of it from my mouth and watch the sky, as the Breach spits out yet more jets of green light. Yet more demons to face. I took a deep, steadying breath. 

"Where are your men, Cassandra?" I shout to her.

"At the forward camp, with Leliana, the woman you met in your cell. We are on our own until we get to them."

We run for some time in silence. All I hear above the wind is the explosions of the Breach. My legs are getting stronger, the breath returning to my lungs. This human staff is decent for what it is - no doubt discarded by some poor Circle mage moments before their death. I can't help wondering where mine is, the one Keeper Istimaethoriel gave me. Gods. What will I tell her? Yes, Deshanna, I did go to spy on the Conclave, but it exploded and created a demon-spouting hole in the sky. It seems a little farfetched, even for her to believe. I spit on the snow as we reach another part of the river. I swear aloud as there are already two shades down there. Cassandra wastes no time in jumping down into it, her sword catching the green light of the Breach. My staff is becoming easier in my hands as I fire at the shades from the top, their wretched bodies engulfed in flames as Cassandra's blade dispatches them. She takes a moment to breathe after they're dead - something I really can't blame her for.

I jump down on to the ice and join her. We keep running, following the river as it winds uphill towards the Breach. The closer we get, the emptier it seems. Rocks float half-in-half out. In the centre there is green and emptiness, then... colours and shapes, and flashes of light, and I feel like I'm falling. Elgar'nan, what is that? It feels wrong to look at. A jolt goes through my body and I shudder, flipping my staff in my hand and continue running. The Breach lets loose another few shades but we clear through them quickly, pushing on upriver. My legs are beginning to burn, but I grit my teeth. The cold batters my skin, and my chest is throbbing from where the shade scratched me. We can't afford to stop. The river twists towards the bank, where we rejoin the path. I can hear Cassandra panting beside me as we turn, and begin up some snow-covered steps. I can hear people yelling close by, the sound of swords and of demons, and the sound of the Breach, but closer, louder.

"We're getting close to the rift. You can hear them fighting." Cassandra shouts to me. "We have to help them!"

Knees burning, I reach the top of the steps. My heart is hammering in my chest, but I keep going. We round a corner, past a ruined wall, and I stop in my tracks. Soldiers fight with wisps and shades in the courtyard below, their cries echoing off the ruined walls. Cassandra leaps down into the fray, aggressively bashing a shade with her shield. The sight of the rift chills my blood; it glows green and bright, and I just make out a distorted landscape rippling through it. The Fade. Taking a deep breath, I flipped my staff in my hand. Mythal guide me.


	3. Bianca's Excited

Everything is burning. I twist my staff, sending more fireballs dancing through the courtyard, setting demons alight and screeching. A streak of chain lightning hurtles past my face and I step back, the tang of potent magic stinging my nose with its scent. I can feel the blood dripping down my stomach from my wound. My shirt is soaked with it. Across the courtyard, Cassandra is grappling with a shade, slicing her sword into its twisted arm. Its shrieking fills my ears, but is cut short after a bolt embeds itself into its wretched neck. My staff crackles, but before I can kill the last shade, one of the soldiers slices off its head. That's all of them for now. I go to take a breath, but I feel a tight grip close on my marked wrist.

"Quickly, before more come through!"

My wrist is thrust forward towards the rift. My palm splays, and a bright green jet of something erupts from it. All breath leaves my body as I watch the rift react. It swirls round, like someone has reversed a clock. The energy retreats, tendrils condensing into a ball of yellow-green light. A crack splits the air and energy thrums through my bones as the rift grows smaller and brighter. It explodes into light, a high pitched chime ringing around the courtyard. I wrench my hand back out of the grip, snapping my head towards the voice.

He looks like me, but doesn't at the same time. He's an elf, the sharp points of his ears jutting out a little from his bald head, but his face is bare. No vallaslin. He looks at me with an unreadable expression, his eyes flicking from my hand to my face.

"What did you do?" I retract my hand from his penetrative stare.

The elf clasps his hands behind his back. "I did nothing. The credit is yours."

I don't hide my confusion. I unclench my fist and stare at my mark, once again benign and faintly glowing in my palm. I spare another look towards where the rift used to be. "You mean I closed it?"

He nodded. "Whatever magic opened the Breach also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorised the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake." He gestured to the empty air. "It seems I was correct."

The snow crunches behind me, and Cassandra emerges at my side, splattered with more black blood. "Meaning it could also close the Breach itself."

"Possibly."

The elf turns back to me. He looks at me for a moment. I don't know what it is, but he's different somehow - sharper-featured, taller? I don't know. He has a staff on his back - a city elf mage? A slight smile is on his face as he continues. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation."

"Good to know." Another voice adds from my left. "Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever."

I turn to face it. The voice belongs to a dwarf. He wears a rich scarlet coat, much of the shirt open to expose a copious amount of chest hair. He approaches us, hauling a large crossbow onto his back as he does. Despite our circumstances he's smirking, in a sort of way that makes me want to do the same. Adjusting his gloves, he stoops slightly in a mock bow.

"Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally," he shoots a wink at Cassandra, "unwelcome tagalong."

"Author of the 'Tale of the Champion?'" I venture.

Varric smirks. "The one and only."

His cocky smile has spread to me. I can't keep my mouth from spreading into a grin. "You can't be with the Chantry?"

The elf beside me chuckles. "Was that a serious question?"

I shoot him a look. Light amusement paints his face as he looks back.

Varric sighs. "Technically I'm a prisoner, just like you."

Cassandra folds her arms indignantly. "I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine. Clearly that is no longer necessary."

"Yet, here I am," his roguish smirk deepens, "lucky for you, considering current events."

I let out my own soft chuckle. Gods, this man has managed to make me laugh. Just minutes ago I was terrified, shellshocked, with questions screaming over each other in my head. Now, I'm laughing. My smile spreads. "It's good to meet you, Varric."

The elf folds his arms and laughs lightly again. "You may come to regret that stance in time."

Varric places his hand on his chest like he's been shot with one of his crossbow bolts. He shakes his head in mock hurt. "I'm hurt. Truly. I was so sure we'd become great friends in the valley, Chuckles."

Chuckles. Interesting. Oh no, am I going to get a nickname? 

"Absolutely not." Cassandra interjects. "Your help is appreciated, but-"

"Have you been in the valley recently, Seeker? Your soldiers aren't in control anymore." He inclines his head to look up at her, giving her another sly wink. "You need me."

Cassandra's face contorts and she shakes her head. A noise of vehement disgust comes from her throat and she walks off with a scowl. I chuckle again, brushing a curtain of hair from my face as it slips from my rapidly deteriorating bun. Reaching up, I just pull the string from it and it falls down, the wind jostling it as it does. The elf approaches me again.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions."

I turn to the elf- Solas- and nod, pushing the last of my hair from my face. I'm smiling again. "Elain, of Clan Lavellan." 

"I am pleased to see you still live."

"In all honesty, so am I."

Varric scoffs. "What he means is, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept'."

My stomach drops - he's why I'm still here? Still alive? My eyes are widen, the smile falling from my face as I turn back to Solas. A smile twitches on to my face but it goes away. I'm trying to assemble some form of gratitude.

"Ma serannas, lethallin." I breathe, glancing down at my hand.

Solas' eyebrow quirks up, and his light smile returns. "You are welcome."

"You must know a great deal about all this."

Cassandra appears again, casting somewhat wary looks between Solas and I. "Like you, Solas is an apostate."

Solas held up a hand. "Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra."

I mean, he's not wrong.

"My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed, regardless of origin."

I frown. My stomach twists uncomfortably, a sinking feeling beginning to tug at my heart. "That's a sunny way of looking at things."

"We must realise the reality of this threat if we are to vanquish it. Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike anything I have seen. Your prisoner-" Solas stops to correct himself, "Elain- is a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having this kind of power."

A stiff lipped nod was Cassandra's only response. "We must get to the forward camp. Quickly."

She starts ahead, through the remains of a doorway. Solas follows, picking the staff from off his back.

"Well," Varric shrugs, arming his crossbow, "Bianca's excited."


	4. The Forward Camp

Admittedly, it's comforting to have three people with me instead of one. Cassandra charges ahead, wearing an expression that could curdle milk. Varric is ahead of me too, but a little closer. He's absentmindedly arming his crossbow - Bianca - and flyaway hairs are being stripped from his small ponytail. Solas is closest to my side, his staff crackling in his hand. His eyes are firmly focused on the Breach, his brow furrowed and jaw tightened to the point where every bone makes a sharp line in his face. They're strangers to me, but comforting nonetheless. I can't think of anyone that would want to face this mess alone.

We travel downhill, large dagger-like icicles hanging from a ridge above us. With every boom of the Breach they shake, primed to fall and impale us at any given moment. But we keep moving, green flashes falling periodically around us. We are confronted by lesser shades and wisps, but the four of us dispatch them much more quickly than before. Cassandra is always first to attack, slashing left and right, black blood coating her from head to toe. She charges ahead as the frozen river widens into a lake, the waters a foreboding greyish-navy under her boots. Ahead of us, a house is burning, the flames stark against the cold. I can feel the heat licking my skin from yards away. Mythal's mercy, I hope nobody was inside. Twirling my staff, I send a plume of flame towards an advancing wisp. I toss some hair from my face as Cassandra smites another shade, and Varric curses loudly behind me.

"You are Dalish." Solas begins.

"I am." I respond. "What's your point?"

"You are Dalish, yet clearly away from the rest of your clan. Did they send you here?"

I stop in my tracks and look at him. His face is bare, his ears flatter than mine. Ordinarily I'd assume he is a city elf, but... there's something different about him. "What do you know of the Dalish?"

Solas faces me. "I have wandered many roads in my time, and crossed paths with your people on many occasions."

I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean 'crossed paths'?"

"I mean that I offered to share knowledge, only to be attacked for no reason other than their superstition."

I frown. "You keep calling us they, as if you and I are not the same people."

He almost scoffs. "The Dalish I met felt... differently on the subject."

"Can't you elves just play nice for once?" Varric groans, walking between us. His exasperation is almost laughable.

We leave the lake, up some more stone steps into a courtyard so ruined it's barely there. This couldn't have been caused by the Breach, could it? More steps lead further up the hill, cutting through a gorge as we advance ever closer to the gaping green hole in the sky.

"So," I hear Varric begin behind me, "are you innocent?"

I bristle. "Yes!" But then a thought assaults me - I don't have any memory of what happened. For all I know, I could be guilty. I spare a quick glance down at my hand. "I don't know. I don't remember what happened."

I can feel Varric shaking his head as he responds with a chuckle. "See, that'll get you every time. Should've spun a story."

Cassandra shoots a glare over her shoulder. "That's what you would have done."

"It's more believable, and less prone to result in premature execution."

Beside me, Solas chuckles.

We continue up the steps, the snow falling thick and fast. My knees buckle as blinding pain crackles across my palm once more. My staff clatters to the floor. I clutch my burning arm and fall forward, a cry tearing itself from my mouth. Fenedhis. I grit my teeth and screw my eyes shut as I wait for the pain to end. I can feel hand on my back, rubbing in soothing support, but the fingers are a ghost's grace compared to the searing of the mark. My throat tightens, but the pain dissipates. I gasp, and push myself up from the floor.

"The pulses will only grow stronger." Solas says as he picks my staff off the floor.

"Then we need to close it as soon as possible." I reply, taking it back from him as I begin to jog again.

The path ahead of us steepens into a slope, the stones of the mountain sticking out from the snow. A couple more shades present themselves in front of us, but Solas' chain lightning dispatches those that Cassandra's blade does not. We step over the blast marks on the stone steps as we continue up the slope, and it slowly begins to even out again. My stomach drops as I spy a body, slumped face-down in the snow. They're not breathing, but they've barely been dead minutes. We pass a burning cart, and the path flattens out beside a ruined wall. I look towards Cassandra, her eyes are wide and her jaw is clenched.

"I hope Leliana made it through all this."

"She's resourceful, Seeker." Varric replies swiftly. There's almost a warmth to his tone.

Solas points up some steps, towards where another rift glows. "We shall see for ourselves soon enough."

Well, shit.

Multiple soldiers fight the demons at the top of the hill, before another great gate. They cry for us to help them as we join the fight. I flip my staff and send a fireball at a shade. Impact slams into my side and I'm sprawling. A shade with a golden crest brandishes its claws in front of me, its grotesque form bending and twisting. I scramble back, shooting a fireball at it. It reels back, and a purple flash of chain lightning makes it crumple in front of me. Solas stares at me, his eyes wide and purposeful.

"Your mark!" he shouts, "use it on the rift!"

I roll, pushing myself up off the snow. Fighting echoes around me, my hand crackles with green light. Come on, Elain. I take a quick breath and splay my hand towards the morphing rift. Energy erupts from my palm, streaming towards the small rift. It booms and shifts, glowing brighter as it begins to close. My jaw tightens. My hand feels like it's on fire. My hand shakes as the rift curls in on itself, and explodes into citrine light as it is closes. I did it. Mythal's Mercy, I did it again. I can't help the sigh of relief that escapes my lips.

"The rift is closed! Open the gate!" Cassandra calls out, her command loud and barking. I can see why people follow her.

The soldiers obey, and the great gate begins to creak slowly open. The aged wood groans as it parts to reveal a bridge, populated with soldiers and tents. The Forward Camp. Cassandra and Varric rush ahead through the doors. Solas looks at me, inclining his head for us to follow. I join him as we walk on to the bridge, the heavy gate swinging shut behind us.

The bridge crosses over a massive ravine, a small river winding deep beneath us. Above us, the Breach looms, booming and spitting up sickly green jets of light. It has visibly grown, the pale, wispy tendrils of the clouds warped and shifting ever outward. The green deepens into darkness... then clear emptiness? And there are hints of brighter colours beyond the sheen of green, twisting and morphing... It is hard not to get mesmerised. We advance across the bridge. A man in a white robe hunches over a large table, and the woman from earlier - Leliana - stands beside him. Their voices float on the wind towards us as we approach. They're arguing.

"I have caused trouble?" Leliana scowls, crossing her arms.

The man straightens, a fierce expression souring his face. "You-"

He stops speaking as he spots us. Turning from Leliana, he sets his burning eyes on Cassandra. He's wearing a white and red gown, its hood secured with a black hat. The gold pattern on the brow of the hat tells me he's from the Chantry. Well he's bound to hate me.

"Well," he spits, "here they are."

Leliana steps forward, a ghost of relief in her hardened features. "You made it."

"Not without a scrape with a shade or two." I gesture to my still-bleeding chest, but still manage an affirming smile.

Leliana motions to me. "Chancellor Roderick, this is-"

"I know who she is." he glowers at me, his aging features twisted into an expression of digust and disdain. Is it because I'm a mage, Dalish, Marked, or all three? He points an accusing finger into my face. "And as grand chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution! Where are her bindings?"

Cassandra bristles beside me. "Order me? You are a glorified clerk! A bureaucrat!"

"And you are a thug." Chancellor Roderick fires back. "But a thug that supposedly serves the Chantry."

They certainly don't like each other.

Leliana steps forth, in between them. "We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know."

Something akin to hurt strikes a crack in Roderick's features, but only for a moment; he steels his expression into an even more unpleasant frown. "Justinia is dead!" he pauses, his shoulders sagging slightly. He's saddened by her death, too. "We must elect a replacement and obey her orders on the matter."

Does he mean to wait? While the Breach grows larger, spits up more demons, kills more innocents? While my Mark spreads further and causes me more pain? I stiffen.

"But that'll take time!" I hear myself say, perhaps too loudly, "Time we don't have. Isn't closing the Breach the more pressing problem right now?"

Roderick stares at me like I'm a murderer. "You brought it on us in the first place! I should have you killed right here!"

Before I can reply, Cassandra places her hand on my shoulder. I take it as a cue to keep quiet.

"Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless."

Cassandra shakes her head. "We can stop this, Chancellor, before it becomes too late."

"How?" Roderick throws up his hands. He looks defeated. "You won't survive long enough to reach the Temple, even with all your soldiers."

"We must reach the Temple. It's the quickest route."

"But not the safest." Leliana interjects. "Our forces could charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains."

I follow her gaze ahead of us, to a great looming mountain behind the other great gate. The Breach booms and crackles again, colouring the snow sickly green. It's a shame, really - green used to be my favourite colour.

"We lost contact with an entire squad on that path, Leliana, it's too risky."

"Listen to me." Roderick barks. "Abandon this now, before more lives are lost."

A green flash erupts in the sky and he stops talking. The Breach crackles, and booms, the bass reverberating around the valley. My mark begins to burn again, sending shockwaves of energy up my arm. I grit my teeth as my very bones shake, the searing numbing the skin around my mark. The pain is becoming more bearable now, and I'm not entirely sure that's a good thing.

Cassandra turns to me. "How do you think we should proceed?"

"Now you're asking what I think? A moment ago you all wanted to kill me."

"You have the mark." Solas says.

"And you must be kept alive."

"For now." Chancellor Roderick interrupts.

I shoot him a glare. I look down at my hand; it's glowing brighter than before. It's bigger too, as if my skin is parting to reveal more of the Fade itself. It's going to kill me, isn't it? There's a terrible sinking feeling deep in my stomach, but I square my shoulders and look Cassandra in the eye. "I won't live long enough for a trial. Whatever we do, we must do now.

I take a breath, and I'm not sure how I manage it, but I grin. "I say we charge."

A trace of a smile is on Cassandra's lips as she nods. "Leliana, bring everyone left in the valley. Everyone. We charge on the temple."

Nodding, Leliana begins back towards the valley, multiple soldiers springing to her side. The mountain looms in front of me, the Breach growing and crackling ever louder. Cassandra unsheathes her blade again and begins to walk, Varric and Solas at her side. I swallow, trying to ignore the sinking feeling as I follow them. Falon'din, welcome me into your arms when this is all over. Chancellor Roderick gives us one last glare as we pass him, and the great gate begins to open.

"On your head be the consequences, Seeker."


End file.
